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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23317255">Worthless Affections</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl'>GaHoolianGirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Flirting, Basically Hubert keeps an eye on Claude and falls in love, Developing Relationship, Doomed Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Enemy Lovers, Flirting, M/M, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:28:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23317255</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He did not notice the other's handsomeness or his intelligent eyes, his lean archer's physique, or the beauty of the rare genuine smile he only ever showed to an extremely select few.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He did not. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>He-</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Damn it all. Damn, damn, damn it-</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He was supposed to be obvious this, he had a higher purpose, one which would land him directly at odds with the object of his-</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Of his-</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Of his <b>worthless</b> affections!</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claude von Riegan/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>111</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Worthless Affections</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Don't bring up a rarepair with characters I love in front of me I WILL write about them. I don't have any other explanation for this fic, just take it.</p><p>(It's preskip but post Claudes 18th bday, it's mentioned at the end)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I will be frank with you, what is your purpose in doing this?"</p><p>"Doing what, exactly?"</p><p>Hubert crossed his arms, eyebrow rising, "Taking your meal here. With me. Instead of with absolutely anyone else."</p><p>An easy, insincere smile played at Claude's lips. Truly, did he think he fooled anyone with that? Of course he did, it was easy to fool fools, "I simply desired a change of scenery."</p><p>"A change of scenery?" Hubert deadpanned in response, sweeping an arm to gesture at the empty section of the dining hall they sat in, which looked like every other part of the room. It wasn't even near a window, "A wise choice. This drafty corner is lovely this time of year."</p><p>"I couldn't agree more, my fine sullen friend," Claude's eyes shone as he spoke, and it was the first genuine emotion Hubert had seen on him in all his careful observations. </p><p>It fascinated him.</p><p>"The creaky bench, the musty stone, and oh, let's not forget the dented table!"</p><p>"Truly, 'tis one of the many wonders of Garreg Mach," he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone, but it served to make Claude laugh, an interesting mix of affectation and sincerity. What a strange man he was. Everyone else at the monastery was a known threat, understood and catalogued by their famous lineage, and/or lifetime of Fodlan citizenship. With a few simple questions you could deduce the life story of nearly anyone here, and most were not even worth the trouble.</p><p>But not Claude.</p><p>Seeming to fall out of the sky, claiming a powerful title with ease, he waltzed onto the carefully set stage and rearranged things as he saw fit. Easy in manner, but he must be devious in intent. Hubert vowed from this moment he would be under his special scrutiny.</p><p>He must understand Claude von Riegan.</p><hr/><p>It is only a week later he receives the first note, laying on the desk in his room.</p><p>
  <em> I know you're watching me. Having fun? - K </em>
</p><p>It was in a careful, deliberate hand, which was meant to throw you off the trail of whoever wrote it.</p><p>Oh, that "you" wasn't Hubert, but anyone else who by chance stumbled across it instead of him. Handwriting analysis was an imperfect and unreliable art, but it had its uses, such as now. The script was pleasantly elegant, but stiff and with the air of repeated but not wholly successful practice, like the sender was mimicking someone else's style rather than having their own. </p><p>The handwriting of someone trying to hide something.</p><p>Despite himself, Hubert chuckled when he finally put the note down on his desk. Anyone else would have been frightened of his scrupulous gaze, but this man responded only with curiosity, "I think I just might have some fun, <em> K. </em>"</p><p>If Claude wanted to make this a game, he could play <em> games. </em> He had a solemn duty to further Edelgard's goals, and shouldn't distract himself from that, but through this he could eek out some enjoyment in watching the other squirm while also learning about the enemy. If it became a liability, he would simply cease. Such an opportunity was rare, he would not waste it.</p><p>He readied his quill and ink, and set about planning his method of attack.</p><hr/><p>
  <em> You flatter me. I am simply vain, and make it a habit to know all of my secret, or not so secret, admirers. - K </em>
</p><p>A smile graced Hubert's cheeks. This was a response to him leaving a note between the pages of a book in the library he knew that generally only Claude read, which had said <em> I believed I was discreet in my observations. Your eye is keener than many. Woe is I, I believed my affections well hidden from the world. - S </em></p><p>He had seen Claude partake in the game of flirtation from time to time, he was no letch like the Gautier pervert nor a blowhard like the Gloucester boy, but it was just one of his many means of veiled communications. It was not what Hubert was most adept at, but he was a fast learner. He chose to write under the guise of "S", because if Claude could play coy than so could he.</p><p>His latest note read,<em> I shall endeavor to improve my abilities. Permit me to continue gazing from afar? - S </em></p><p>The first few were exchanged between several days, but he received his reply that evening, in the same neat envelope as the others.</p><p>
  <em> By all means. I hope I can entertain you well enough. I'm a rather boring fellow. - K </em>
</p><p>Idly running his thumb over the words, Hubert shook his head. He knew not of fear any longer, but something eerily similar ran through his veins at this little game they were playing, which he quietly realized was <em> thrill. </em></p><p>
  <em> Oh, you are everything but. </em>
</p><hr/><p>These exchanges continued on for several weeks, and all the while his observation of Claude continued.</p><p>He learned that Claude was a cautious man. </p><p>Even the most dense could tell that he kept whomever he spoke with at a sizable distance, redirecting and weaving between conversations like an elegant dancer transitions between steps. His ability to deceive was an art, and he had the perfect canvas among the headless sheep that populated the monastery, Hubert very nearly pitied them.</p><p>Only nearly.</p><p>If they couldn't tell how much smarter Claude was than them, then they deserved the deception, in his estimation. That was another immutable fact about Claude he had learned; the man was brilliant. Not in the same manner as Linhardt, nor did he have the gift for command Lady Edelgard did (no one did), but when it came to thinking on his feet, Claude was unmatched. One had to have a quick wit to understand that the looks Hubert had been giving him were calculating and cataloging instead of a simple attempt to menace them.</p><p>(He had had Bernadetta flee from his presence often enough to know that was what most people thought).</p><p>Another understood truth was that Hubert himself was no fool, and he could see when he was being looked at right back. Claude chose subtlety over cultivating a persona in which cross looks were an expected norm; a glance when Hubert's back was turned, or walking down a hall where he just so happened to be having an important conversation. Had he been born into any other station the man would have made an excellent spy.</p><p>Perhaps, in the world Lady Edelgard would create, he could be-</p><p>That was a dangerous thought. A dangerous, useless, thought. Claude would no doubt oppose them, for there were things even some as brilliant as him could not know. He had to prepare for a day without him, as he did for everyone at this blasted school. </p><p>Admirable or not, he was an enemy. </p><p>That was the beginning and the end of it. He had learned enough, the letters would have to cease before he entertained any more absurd notions like them being friends or even more or anything else so ridiculous.</p><p>Another thing he quickly learned about Claude was that he did not give up.</p><hr/><p>
  <em> I see you have given up on me? You sadden me so. You can concede our game if you want, but I will warn you, I love the thrill of the hunt. -K </em>
</p><p>A shiver slid down Hubert's spine, and he <em> knew </em> it was not from fear.</p><hr/><p>Claude had called it a hunt, but Hubert saw it as a war. </p><p>He never attacked Hubert directly, but instead put his strategic mind to use. They would just so happen to meet at the training grounds once a week, where they would simply work on their own endeavors in silence. Hubert refused to hand him an easy victory so he stood his ground, but quickly found that the steady sound of arrows being loosed into a training dummy soothed him, and he felt a great unease when the other wasn't there. </p><p>It was because he thought the other might be scheming something even worse elsewhere, nothing more.</p><p>Even worse than that was how often he joined him for meals, full well knowing the other had no reason to refuse. His reputation for unfriendliness might have saved him, if not for the civility between them before. Hubert was known for his consistency as well, so he bore the indignity in silence, listening to Claude blather on...about topics which he quickly found to be rather fascinating. He possessed a unique perspective on the many things. It became part of Hubert's lunch routine to listen to whatever had caught Claude's latest fascination.</p><p>It was only because when Lady Edelgard was not around, he was in want of a good conversational partner, nothing more.</p><p>Nothing more at all.</p><p>He did not notice the other's handsomeness or his intelligent eyes, his lean archer's physique, or the beauty of the rare genuine smile he only ever showed to an extremely select few.</p><p>He did not. </p><p>He-</p><p>Damn it all. Damn, damn, damn it-</p><p>He was supposed to be above this, he had a higher purpose, one which would land him directly at odds with the object of his-</p><p>Of his-</p><p>Of his worthless <em> affections! </em></p><p>He was a tool. A means to an end. Even in another life, Claude would not turn his eye towards Hubert. It would be foolish to believe anything different.</p><p>He always called others fools, yet now the fool was him.</p><hr/><p>"Fancy meeting you at this late hour."</p><p>Hubert's tone was curt, "Do you have a message for Lady Edelgard? If not, let me pass."</p><p>Resting against a wall, the smile on Claude's face, illuminated in warm tones by the flickering torches, was neither false or true, nor in any way happy. It was tense and knowing. Almost <em> betrayed, </em> "I simply wanted to see if the rumors are true."</p><p>"Which rumors?" Hubert hated the almost ease at which he fell into this conversation, "There are many."</p><p>"Oh, just the one about you being a blood sucking creature of the night. Figured I'd be a half decent target," he replied with some shallow mirth, tilting his neck ever so subtly, a not so subtle invitation.</p><p>It worked. Curse his baser instincts.</p><p>His reply made his reaction undeniable, "That is...ridiculous. Of course not."</p><p>"There's nothing that's quite certain in this world. You always have to make sure with your own two eyes."</p><p>He took a step forward, and Hubert swallowed thickly.</p><p>"And now there's something I'm very certain of."</p><p>Claude's softened, not into a smile but still well and truly pleased. He hazarded a hand up to Huberts cheek, who did not recoil no matter how hard his common sense begged him to. Instead he released a strained noise from his throat.</p><p>"My birthday was just before all this began, but I'm still missing something," Claude said in a tone that had a pleasant hum to it, "You know where I might happen upon a tall, dark, and handsome gift?"</p><p>Hubert grit his teeth, grabbed the hand on his face, "If I did not care for you so, you insufferable-"</p><p>Their mouths met in a kiss, poor in execution and timing but providing a flood of relief Hubert had been craving for weeks. This was wrong, in a few short months he may end up <em> killing </em> this man, but for this moment in time his body took over, and he provided as enthusiastic reciprocation as he could manage. </p><p>He had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it, but for this brief, blissful moment, he let himself simply <em> feel. </em>•</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know what you thought!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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